Byzantine Gold

by Chris Karlsen

  “Nassor, what sites have you worked in the past?”

  “The harbor of Alexandria and an ancient fishing boat in the Red Sea.”

  Explains a lot, she thought. He probably dealt with ancient statuary and building remains in Alexandria and limited artifacts off the fishing boat.

  His generalized term for the fishing boat struck her as funny, unprofessional for a scientist of this nature. Archaeologists, paleontologists, geologists, most when describing a site are specific in their terminology as to period or era. Bronze Age, Byzantine Era, Mesozoic Era, Precambrian, timelines are important to them. Unlike Nassor’s simple reference as “ancient.”

  Before she questioned him further, he tapped her on the shoulder and then tapped his watch. Time to surface.

  Anxious to return to camp, the questions slipped her mind. Iskender was due any time. He might have updated information on Tischenko.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “The bottom drawers are yours,” Atakan told Iskender.

  “Do we have a secure storage container?” Iskender asked, as he unpacked the Akdal Ghost. The same model automatic issued to Atakan.

  Atakan reached under his bunk and slid out a heavy-gauge black steel microvault twice the size of a laptop and set the case on the bed. A finger pad was attached to the exterior of the lid with four rows and circular sensor plates.

  Atakan laid his hand on the rows, the tips of his fingers on the plates. The locking bar clicked.

  “Biometric readers...nice,” Iskender said.

  “Supposed to be impossible to pry with hand tools and a built-in computer blocks access after any invalid scan entries.

  Atakan opened it. Inside the top was lined with soft egg-carton-style foam. On the bottom were cutouts for the autos and extra magazines.

  “Why a key lock too?” Iskender pointed to the small key lock on the outside.

  “Locking override.” Atakan took a ring with two keys from his pocket and removed one. “Here.” He handed it to Iskender. “Let me close this and we’ll program your fingerprints into the computer.” The case locked automatically when he shut the lid.

  “How fast can we get into this thing, if a situation arises?”

  “We have quick access. I tested it at the office.”

  Atakan finished entering the biometric information and they stored their weapons and extra magazines. He replaced the microvault under his bed.

  “The Director contacted our military base here and they’ve agreed to allow us use of their practice range. We’ll go there shortly. The cook is lending us her truck.”

  “Good idea. Been awhile since I shot. Actually, the last time was with you, in Sevastopol.”

  “Same for me. Want to take a coffee before we go?” Atakan asked.

  “Sounds good.”

  Iskender studied the layout of the camp while they walked to the dining area. “The fence doesn’t offer much of a deterrent.”

  “I know, but it’s the best we could do with the short time we had to put it up. It’s meant mainly to keep the tourists away.”

  Two of the Brits nodded and said “Hi,” as they passed.

  “Is no one here concerned about seeing you armed?”

  “Refik, Talat, and of course Charlotte, know why. The other team members are new to Turkish Ministry controlled sites. I don’t think they know this isn’t standard for our representatives,” Atakan said.

  Atakan and Iskender sat at a table in the corner away from the others eating and drinking, killing time before the afternoon dives.

  “Headquarters notified me earlier today a cash machine camera captured the face of the man our agent in Kusadasi chased. He confirmed it was Tischenko.”

  “What do you think Tischenko was doing in Kusadasi?”

  The same question preyed on Atakan’s mind. Tischenko took a big risk going there. Every law enforcement agency in the country had a bulletin with his face on it. What did he need or have to do there he couldn’t do or get almost anywhere else?

  “I don’t know,” Atakan replied. “I checked for links. I couldn’t find any family ties or known associates.”

  “You checked boat leases in the area I assume.”

  He nodded. “All the local rentals were to tourists. I did a search on those names too, in case they might have a past connection to him.”

  “I understand the Director discussed the latest theory with you.”

  Atakan nodded again. Director Firat had called him that morning. He wanted an outside opinion and consulted with a friend assigned the Intelligence Unit in the Special Police Forces. The friend advised against assuming Tischenko’s next attempt would be in Istanbul. “He threw caution to the wind and chanced apprehension in Kusadasi. As the Americans say, he’s gone off script. It’s a mistake to think he won’t dare an attempt in Cyprus.”

  “Do me a favor,” Atakan said. “Don’t tell Charlotte. She’s already sick with worry. I told her the latest theory involving Istanbul. That was before the Director’s call. I don’t want her to know we’ve upgraded the threat level at this location.”

  “Understood.”

  “It’s safer for him to anchor off this end of the island and avoid crossing the Green Line.”

  “If I were him, I’d use a small vessel that didn’t attract attention.”

  “That describes dozens of boats, on any given day, in every harbor nearby. Without a lead on the boat, we’ve got nothing workable.”

  They sat quietly drinking their coffee and mulling over the difficult situation.

  “Saska’s here,” Atakan said, changing the subject.

  A corner of Iskender’s mouth lifted in a wry grin. “Yes, I know. I saw her name on the approval sheet for this site. Does Charlotte know of your history with her?”

  “Yes. It’s not our practice to discuss previous relationships but with Saska coming here, I had to tell her.”

  “She’s fine with it?”

  “She’s not thrilled, but she’s not one to act childish. Besides, I’ve made an outside arrangement that pleases her.”

  #

  Saska rode the same shuttle as Charlotte back to camp.

  “Mind if I ask a few questions?” she asked, sitting next to Charlotte on the boat’s wooden bench.

  “Shoot.”

  “Is this the only type of archaeology you do?”

  “You mean do I work land sites?” Saska nodded. “No, just wrecks,” Charlotte said, retrieving a bottle of water from her backpack. She offered a drink to Saska, who declined.

  “Why?”

  “My doctorate is in nautical archaeology. I didn’t want to wind up on a dig in some horrible jungle or a desert wasteland in the blistering sun.”

  Saska wrote several lines in a spiral notebook.

  Charlotte swallowed a large gulp of water anxious to retract the last. It was the truth, but she should’ve chosen her words better. The way she phrased the work of other archaeologists sounded pompous and unprofessional. She had to remember to give neutral answers or speak in generalities to the journalist. She tried to read what Saska had written and couldn’t. The notes were in some kind of personal shorthand.

  Charlotte attempted to explain. “Wherever the work is, all archaeology is important. I have the greatest respect for the scientists who work those sites. They often endure harsh conditions.

  “I love the sea. I love the world beneath the surface. There’s beautiful and colorful fish. Some are buttery yellow or neon blue or green. Others are streaked with bright orange.” She flicked her fingers out, one hand then the other, mimicking mini explosions and the way they appeared to her. “They’re like solar flares when they flash past.”

  Charlotte paused to find the words to describe what she feels the first time she sees the physical ship. “Every ship has a tale. I want to learn the story each has to tell.”

  “I understand your fascination.” Saska wrote faster. “Do all the divers feel the same about the wrecks?”

  “I don’t know, pr
obably not. I can’t speak for them. Most are new to me. You’d have to ask them individually.”

  “How about your partner? Haven’t you talked together?”

  “Not really. We’ve only gone on three dives so far. He’s a good person for you to interview about the work. I do know he’s been on a project in the harbor of Alexandria. That would be an interesting topic for your article. Ask him how the two projects compare.”

  “Why is Atakan armed?”

  “Pardon?” Charlotte asked, stalling, surprised by the sudden switch in topic. She’d heard the question and didn’t like it. Was Saska trying to be sly by asking mundane archaeological questions first and then slipping in the real question she wanted answered on the chance she’d catch Charlotte off guard? Or, did she always think in leaps of subject matter? Charlotte’s suspicions leaned toward sly.

  “He wasn’t armed on the previous sites when I was there,” Saska said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’ve no idea. Whatever the reason, it’s a Ministry matter.”

  Saska looked skeptical. “No offense, but I don’t believe you when you say you don’t know.”

  Unfazed by the journalist’s doubts, Charlotte eyed her back, keeping her attitude one of detachment. “No offense taken. Believe or don’t believe me. I don’t give a rat’s ass.”

  Saska blinked, apparently unused to non-butt kissing candidness from her interviewees. “I’ll ask him. Obviously, there’s something dangerous about this site,” she said behind a presumptuous little smile. “I want to find out what. A bit of danger adds spice to my story.” She closed her notebook. “Think about it...it’d be like an underwater Indiana Jones.”

  Charlotte tamped down her irritation at Saska’s confidence. She thought for a moment and then shifted to a more neutral tone.

  “Indiana buys a wetsuit. I can see the potential.” She’d have liked the idea more if the danger didn’t involve Atakan’s life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Charlotte checked Refik’s office first. When she didn’t find Atakan there, she asked Derek if he’d seen him. Derek told her he was in the dining room with another man who had just arrived. Charlotte hurried in that direction.

  “Iskender.” Charlotte kissed him on both cheeks, happy and relieved to see him. “Last time I saw you your hair was touching your collar. What happened to the rock star look?” she asked, checking out the buzz cut.

  His hair was short when he was part of the rescue operation to save her at Tischenko’s compound in Sevastopol. Over the months since, he’d been a guest at their home many times and his hair had grown long. Atakan kept his the same all the time, combed back and just long enough to stay in place. Charlotte liked longer hair on men and suggested he let his grow. Image conscious, he said no.

  “I keep it short during the summer. It gets too sweaty and sticks to me in the heat, spoiling my dashing appearance,” Iskender said.

  “Of course, I should’ve known.” Iskender prided himself on being the charmer in Atakan’s unit.

  Atakan pulled a chair for Charlotte over to their table.

  “Let me grab a bottle of water. I had one on the shuttle, but I’m still parched.”

  Charlotte took a bottle from the top of a wide metal wash tub filled with ice. Part of the recently replenished stock, it was only lukewarm. Too thirsty to care, she took several deep swallows before she rejoined them.

  “I thought you were coming armed. Where’s your gun?” She looked from Iskender to Atakan, “And yours?”

  “They’re both locked away. Later today, we’re going to the military base to practice,” Atakan answered.

  “I know the odds are slim, but have you discussed a defensive strategy on the off chance Tischenko does come here?” she asked.

  The two men exchanged a quick glance.

  “No, not yet,” Atakan said. “We plan to start with the perimeter of the camp and search for any vulnerable areas. I’ve done this already, but a second pair of eyes always helps.”

  “I’d like to walk the low hills behind us. If...if he shows up here and considering the weapon he used in Paris, we need a plan in case he uses a rifle,” Iskender said.

  It disheartened her to hear him repeat what she and Atakan discussed when they first saw the site location. Nick didn’t say it was impossible to protect against a sniper shot when she asked him. He said he couldn’t advise her without seeing the environment, which gave her a tiny amount of hope.

  “But the Ministry still thinks the attempt is most likely going to come in Istanbul?” she asked.

  “All possibilities are on the table,” Atakan answered.

  The familiarity with Istanbul over Cyprus and the close proximity of more men available from his unit there made her feel better. It wasn’t really pertinent. At the end of the day, the location didn’t matter, only that Atakan was the target.

  Nick said his sources had the ability to hack Tischenko’s computer, if she obtained the necessary information from Atakan. The chances were slim, but there might be a clue on his hard drive from websites Tischenko visited, something the Ministry might’ve missed.

  “Has the Ministry finished their forensics on our computers?” she asked Atakan.

  “Yes, yours was the one hacked. They emailed the final report yesterday.”

  “How’d he do it?”

  “He came in through the back door via an open port.”

  The information stumped her. What website had she visited where he found an open port for any length of time? How did Tischenko know what sites she commonly went to on the internet?

  “What open port was used?” she asked.

  “The most likely-MIAR. It’s logical you’d have their software. While you’re on the site the port is left open. The open connection allowed him inside where he can read your hard drive and siphon the data he wants.”

  “I’d like to read the Ministry report.”

  “There’s nothing in it that I haven’t explained.”

  “I’d like to read it anyway.”

  “Ministry reports are confidential.”

  “I understand, but I’d like to see the summation. My computer was compromised. Please Atakan, it’s only fair.”

  “Charlotte—”

  “Please.” If Atakan discovered she turned the information over to Nick, he’d be pissed. The act might not be necessary. If the report indicated the Ministry was going down the same investigative route as Nick’s sources then she’d not involve him further. But, if the Ministry took a different approach, and it looked like Nick’s sources might find other clues then risking Atakan’s anger was worth it.

  “All right,” Atakan agreed. “I won’t forward it. You must read the file on my computer. I don’t want electronic evidence I violated policy.”

  “Thank you.”

  Atakan turned to Iskender. “This remains between us.”

  “I heard nothing. My ears were temporarily blocked from the flight here,” Iskender said, his expression blank. Then his expression changed to one of concern. “Does the rest of the team know about Tischenko?”

  “Refik showed his picture and told them to report to me if they see him, but he didn’t go into details. At this point, I don’t want to raise alarms,” Atakan said.

  Iskender glanced across the room and waved to Saska, who entered and joined Nassor, sitting alone at another table. “You might have to or someone could let the lion in the den without realizing the danger.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kusadasi, Turkey

  “You found everything I requested?” Maksym took the pharmacy bag from Rana.

  “Yes, Comrade Tischenko.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Too Old Mother Russia?”

  Maksym sighed. He’d told her several times he was Ukrainian not Russian. He’d fought with their army, yes, but wasn’t Russian by birth. Young Rana didn’t grasp the difference. He explained even when the Ukraine was part of the Soviet Republic the Ukrainian people
considered themselves separate.

  “Yes, too old world.”

  He unloaded the bag on the galley counter and read the labels to make certain she got the order right. He opened the new supply of bottles. He shook out four of the twelve MGN-3, rice bran based capsules he’d take and four of the supplements, washing them down with Putinka Vodka. The mega-vitamin and papaya pills he swallowed one at a time with another vodka chaser.

  “You take many pills,” Rana said and jerked her head away after a sniff of the vitamin bottle. “I hate pills.”

  “I’m not crazy about them either, but sometimes they’re necessary. What time do you start work?” Maksym asked as he unzipped her shorts and helped her step out of them.

  “Five.”

  He slid her T-shirt over her head and led her by the hand into the master cabin. “Plenty of time.”

  Giggly Rana wasn’t sophisticated like the women he usually preferred, but she was pretty with big tits and a nice figure. She’d hidden him in the restaurant’s storage room while the police and the man Maksym suspected was a Ministry agent following him, searched. He handed her fifty Euros for her effort and promised her fifty more if she’d come to his boat later. She’d laughed and flashed him a girlish smile. She told him he didn’t have to pay her for sex. She enjoyed sex and would happily fuck him for free. He hadn’t expected such willingness. That evening a small motorboat brought her to his yacht. She gave one of the best blow jobs he’d ever experienced, which was another pleasant surprise. But, truth be told, he doubted the existence of a bad blow job.

  Since he couldn’t chance being seen in town again, she agreed to take money for running his errands. In bed that afternoon, she’d asked why he couldn’t go into Kusadasi again. Why couldn’t he visit her at the café where she worked?

  “I wouldn’t have gone into town the day we met if I hadn’t had an appointment that I needed to keep in person.”

  “Then, why come here?”

  “Like I said, I had an important meeting at a special place. I’m not a welcome visitor to Turkey. If they knew my whereabouts, I’d be arrested.”